What Happens in the Office after Dark
by CrazyIndigoChild
Summary: ...Stays a damn secret! Especially this one. Munkustrap really should be working tonight, but Quaxo has needs; needs that could just as well be satisfied in the privacy of his office. If only they don't get caught. Slash. SEX. Oneshot.


First self-written, consensual, romantic sex fic! WOOT! It took me a good 3 days of writing, a lot of procrastination, and a lot of...compromise :D

Let me know how I did :D I might write more now that I've taken the first step down the road of manifesting hidden pervishness ;P

Thanks goes to Delphicoracle-Cat for Beta-reading! And DontBeAZombie for your encouragement!

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><p>Taking off her tan, thin-framed glasses, she delicately picked at the crust forming in the corners of her eyes, suppressing a yawn. It was midnight and she was already pushing a 15 hour shift. At least she was getting paid overtime with a few days of vacation for helping out so much.<p>

The coffee on her desk had long gone stale and the stench of old, rotting coffee was beginning to upset her stomach. Looking to the clock on the wall behind her, she decided that it was about time she went home for some rest.

Chasing the sleep from her voice, she picked up the office phone and dialed the extension to Munkustrap's office. It only had to ring twice before the exhausted tabby picked up on the other end. "Yes, hello?" he croaked, not trying in the least bit to conceal the immense fatigue.

The elderly queen sighed sympathetically; all these late nights had taken quite a toll on everyone in the office, and the tabby was certainly not an exception to this. "I'm going home, Munkustrap. Perhaps you should do the same."

A low, resigned sigh was the soft reply before the low, stale voice came again. "We're two days away from our deadline, Jelly. I don't have time to go home. You can leave if you wish; you've done more than enough."

"If you're sure," she replied, immediately giving up any argument to persuade him into going home. "I'll see you tomorrow..." Picking up her scheduler, the sandy coloured queen nearly groaned in agony: she had a shift to return to later that morning. "...or later, I guess."

"Don't bother worrying about getting in on time; you need the sleep. Goodnight."

"Thank you, and goodnight, Munkustrap," she smiled before setting down her handset. The front office had already been cleaned and practically shut down for the night. All she had to do was leave out her things for the morning in case Munkustrap needed to rummage through their papers for documents or phone numbers at some point before her return.

Turning off the last of the lights, she stuck her head into the workroom to see a few cubicles still lit up and the soft clicking of keys echoing through the empty hallways between them. "Go home!" she ordered before turning to stalk out the office, locking the front door behind her.

"Oh, wait! Jelly!"

She turned around just in time to find a small black, white-faced tom running up to her breathlessly. She immediately recognized him as Quaxo, Munkustrap's roommate. "I need to get in," he panted softly, lifting his arm to show her the bag of McDonald's in one hand, and the fresh, hot coffee in the other.

"Is Munkustrap expecting you? He didn't mention anything about you coming over..."

He chucked airily, obviously out of breath from the mad dash over for his late night errands. "He just texted about an hour ago, asking me to bring him something to eat." He stuffed the brown bag into his mouth to awkwardly fish out his cell phone from his pant pocket.

Jellylorum placed a kind hand on his searching arm, letting him know that he was fine and didn't need any proof. He had played delivery boy for the tabby enough times before that he was now on a first-name basis with most of the security guards and the employees in the small firm.

"Alright, dear, go on in," she smiled, holding the door open and motioning him inside quickly. "Hopefully that coffee will do him some good," she winked.

"I'm sure I can whip him into shape! I can be quite persuasive," he winked in response. She had to admit, his enthusiastic and playful demeanor was more than enough to motivate anyone, though she assumed that it would be irritating to live with someone so lively.

Smiling back, she bade him good luck and a goodnight before locking the exterior door and taking the elevator to the parking garage.

Padding quietly through the workroom, he tried as best he could to sneak to the back office without being spotted by any of the late workers.

"What brings you here at this hour, Quax?" he heard from one of the lit cubicles to his right. Looking over, he saw Alonzo standing just outside his tiny cubicle, a paper cone of water in-hand.

Hesitating slightly, he lifted his items for the patched tom to peer at hungrily.

"Lucky bastard," he murmured jokingly. "I need to get me an errand jockey."

The tux frowned in distaste; he was not an errand jockey. He quickly remembered that the young intern was working back breaking hours and was probably not in the best mood.

Feeling a bit sympathetic, he hesitantly raised the McDonald's bag. "You want some fries? Munkustrap probably won't eat them anyways. He won't miss them." He shook the bag for effect.

The white and black tom grinned sheepishly and nodded shyly at the offer. "Please."

Quaxo smiled, digging into the bag, grabbing the fries, and handing them to the tom's outstretched hand. Alonzo smiled and thanked him kindly before returning to his desk for another round of number crunching and preparing presentations, leaving the young tom to finishing his delivery.

Luckily, he was able to make it to the dark, unoccupied portion of the room without being stopped again. The back wall was spotted with doors and windows, all leading to various offices, storage closets, and photocopy rooms. Finding Munkustrap's office was easier now for it was the only office that was lit. Looking over his shoulder quickly, he quietly knocked on the door.

"Come in," came the tired and slightly irritated reply. The black tom carefully opened the door.

He smiled shyly. "Hey... it's me. I brought you something to eat."

The tabby, who was miserably massaging his temples, was reading over the presentation, peering into the LED screen of his laptop. His gaze immediately snapped up to the timid tux as he silently closed the door behind him and crept towards the desk.

"What are you... You didn't have to bring me anything," Munkustrap smiled, standing to greet the tux properly, taking his charge and setting the bag on the large, oak desk.

Setting his hands on the black tom's hips, he drew the lithe tom into an affectionate nuzzle and kiss.

Being so close to the tabby, Quaxo could see the ugly bags under his eyes, the kink in his neck as he struggled to properly look down at him, and smell the gallons of poorly made coffee on his breath.

"I thought you might need a bit of a pick-me-up. You've been working far too much lately; there's no way you can be taking proper care of yourself out of your office."

Laughing softly, Munkustrap drew the black tom closer, allowing himself to wrap his arms fully around Quaxo's waist and pull him into a snug embrace, kissing his forehead firmly before stating, "You're too good for me, I swear."

A wicked grin crept across Quaxo's face. "Well, I didn't come over just for your benefit." He began trailing a teasing claw down his lover's side, deliberately tracing the soft muscle between the bones of his ribs. "...I miss having you at home," he pouted, kissing the silver fur at the base of his neck that was peeking out behind his loose tie and wrinkled dress shirt.

"And here I thought you were just using me to pay the rent."

The black tom snickered, leaning back slightly to deliberately run his slim fingers down the front of the silver body. Munkustrap took note of how his blazer was now unbuttoned and peeled back. "Well, that, and a few other choice favours." His hand was snatched away tauntingly when it continued past the bigger tom's navel. Looking up, he was met with a knowing grin.

Slyly, Munkustrap took this opportunity to entwine his fingers with his white-furred companion's. "I promise you, when I'm done with the Jones project, I'll take a week off- I'll call in home sick!" He pulled up their entwined hands to kiss the skin tenderly, sweetly. Sorely, he pulled away from the embrace to sit on the edge of the large, wooden desk. "Then we can spend all the time we want together."

Seeing his chance, Quaxo worked himself between his lover's legs, settling himself firmly against the other's still dormant groin. It only took him a moment to realize what the tom had just said, making him deflate slightly. "I'm busy with the recital most of next week."

"Right," he groaned. "...the recital." Taking a moment to review their options, he absently drummed his fingers against the sensitive area at the base of the smaller tom's tail, driving the black cat crazy. "Well, then I guess I'll have to go with you and cheer you on from the front row-"

"I have to use the washroom," Quaxo announced unexpectedly. "I'll be right back."

Releasing his hold, Munkustrap silently eyed him up as he retreated towards the bathroom. "...Is that my shirt you're wearing?"

"It's..." His eyes trailed down the front of his white, translucent shirt to realize that it wasn't one of his after all. "It is! I wondered why it wasn't fitting right." Shrugging, he spun on his heel and disappeared into the private bathroom behind the desk and water cooler.

Bemused, the tabby smiled after his cutesy tomfriend, glad that at least one of them wasn't entirely miserable or on the verge of a mental breakdown. Picking up the coffee placed by the brown take-out bag, he began sipping it appreciatively, sitting back down in his office chair to resume proofreading his work.

Not five minutes later, Quaxo emerged from the bathroom with nothing but the thin, white dress shirt he'd come in. Leaning on the doorjamb, he stretched his body out seductively, unfastening the top and bottom buttons to expose his chest and lower stomach. "Munkustrap," he beckoned in a sultry voice, tail lashing out excitedly.

"Mmmm?" the tabby hummed, gaze not moving from the screen for fear of losing his place. He took another sip of the scalding hot coffee and scrolled down the page distractedly.

The tux huffed in irritation, dropping his pose in the doorway. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being cheated on while Munkustrap was at work if it took this much effort to evoke a response to his mate flouncing about seductively after showing up without invitation or effort on his part.

To his delight, the tabby was quite distracted from his computer screen when smooth, hungry hands slid up the uniform pants. Jumping slightly when the roaming hands pinched the delicate skin inside his thigh, Munkustrap was forced to put down his coffee for fear of spilling it when his mate decided to get a little more... adventurous.

As predicted, the tux's ministrations shifted and he began to gently knead the fabric covered skin and muscle of his groin. Despite his best intentions, it was hard to resist the pleasurable attention that he'd missed and longed for for much too long. And, by the tux's strong insistence and forwardness, he too was in dire need of some affection.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes at the feel of roaming and scratching hands in and around his growing excitement. He growled in anticipation when dexterous fingers began disengaging his belt and zipper.

Anchoring extended claws into the armrests, he was about to lift himself from the chair so that his pants could be shimmied, when a bright, cheery chime beeped from the desk in front of him.

"Someone's calling me," he gasped huskily, swatting lightly at the giggling tom beneath the desk before reaching for his desk phone. "Hello?... This is he... Well why not?..."

He squirmed and writhed when the tuxed tom continued to toy with him, sliding his hands under the hem of his underpants and playfully pinching soft, sensitive skin. Trying to regulate his breathing at the least, Munkustrap backed away from the desk and grabbed his wrists firmly, evoking a dirty grin. His expression suddenly grew angry. "...Why the hell not!" he demanded. "...You walk out on this, you're not coming back-"

Bored with his mate's rejection, Quaxo emerged from beneath the desk to slowly creep up into his lap enticingly. "You're sexy when you're mad," he whispered hotly in his ear, softly chewing on the tip. He saw the flash in the tabby's eye and the slight smirk that lasted only but a moment.

"…Because I'm paying you to get your work done, that's why, and you're not getting paid shit-all if you can't come through!" he snapped more fiercely. If the bothered tom in his lap had egged him on, it fortunately didn't show as much as it should have.

The black cat huffed cheekily, lowering his mouth to the opening of the tabby's ear and coyly breathing, "I'll definitely come through for you." It was all Munkustrap could do to keep himself from grabbing and jumping the small tom.

"Well send me what you have now, then send me what you can finish before you leave, and we'll see what we can come up with from there. But now I really have to go."

The voice on the other end began to protest pathetically before they were cut short when the call was ended. Returning his faltering attention to the slim tom on top of him, he found the tux had turned himself over onto his back, and sprawled himself shamelessly over the strong body below.

"Who was that?" he asked, reaching up to curl his arm around the tabby's neck, craning his neck to nibble playfully at his chin.

Unable to resist his growing desire, Munkustrap began stroking the exposed underbelly that went unhidden by the dress shirt that was now pushed up to his chest. "Just Tugger," he replied tersely, burying the tips of his fingers in the black fur covering his stomach.

Sliding his hands up and down over the exposed front, the bigger tom's petting had the desired effect of making his mate writhe and pant softly in pleasure. It wasn't until the tux tom began grinding, almost painfully, against him and pleading, "Touch me," that his petting turned to shameless groping and fondling.

His patience running thin, Quaxo reluctantly shifted from their ravishing to sit up and straddle the still fully-clothed tabby, pulling him forwards by the collar into a passionate kiss.

The small tom took pleasure in sliding and tossing his blazer off to the side, running his hands hungrily over the beige dress shirt that had yet to be unbuttoned as his had. He could feel the anticipation radiating from the tom below him; Munkustrap even began to undo his own shirt until his hands were swatted away.

Not breaking the kiss, Quaxo untucked the annoying fabric from the unlatched pants and swooped his hands under the cloth and up his lover's strong, toned stomach and chest, the buttons popping as they went by.

Breathing heavily, Munkustrap savagely delved into the warm softness of the tux's lips and mouth, tasting the heat and lust on his breath. He groaned appreciatively at the feel of Quaxo's fingers teasing his nipples, his back arching into the touch.

It was the black tom's turn to moan when strong hands began kneading his bottom fervently.

Somewhere in the heat of the moment, the silver tom dimly registered kicking off his shoes, socks, and his pants being slid to his ankles along with his hindering boxer shorts. At this discovery, he took it upon himself to finish the favour on his counterpart by sliding off the flimsy fabric, crumpling it up, and tossing it onto one of the chaises across the room.

Breaking the kiss for air, Quaxo looked at Munkustrap through his haze, smiling triumphantly at the similar craze in his companion's dark eyes. "Do you trust this chair to hold?" he breathed huskily, sliding himself closer until he was just above the other's throbbing length.

"I'll have to call and complain if it doesn't," was the growled response. The tux in his arms chuckled, reaching up to entwine his shaky fingers in the silver head fur while his hips swiveled into position with the help of guiding hands.

"Message received," interrupted the computer's alert system. "Message received."

Slumping in annoyance, Quaxo looked from the bright screen on the desk to the tabby in his arms. "That's a mood killer," he grumbled.

Swiveling the chair, Munkustrap reached over to the desk to shut the laptop, only to have his reaching grasp pushed lightly out of the way with an unreadable sigh.

To his dismay, the tux dismounted the office chair to stand at the desk, back to the confused tabby. He scanned the desk curiously as he gently shut the computer's top. Smooth, wanting hands cupped his bottom for but a second before strong arms wrapped around his waist to urge him back.

Suddenly, and without warning, the tux made a swooping gesture with his arm; all the contents on the desk slid off the side without hesitation. Luckily not much noise was made; they didn't need anything- or anyone – interrupting them further.

Pleased with his efforts, the smug tom turned in his tabby's grasp to grin down at his adoring gaze, deliberately peeling his arms away to scoot himself up onto the smooth desktop. Smiling at the unsure gaze of his silver lover, he tentatively stretched out a slender white leg to grab the business tom's loose, messy tie with his toes, leading him forward off the chair.

Lying down fully onto the cool wood, he continued to pull on the silky fabric until the dark figure stood over him at the edge of the table. Cocking his head to the side, he smiled sweetly up at the dimly lit form watching him intently.

"Now you be a good boy..." he admonished, sliding his leg over Munkustrap's shoulder to pull him closer. "...Or I'll have to get-" he was cut off by the impact of the tabby's warm body covering his, mouth sealing his lips off in a vigorous kiss.

Pulling the tux to the edge of the desk, the bigger tom anchored his hands on the slim, black hips; giving them a firm squeeze before slowly easing his erection into his petite lover.

Staring down at the recently smug tom, the sight was beautiful; the rolling of light blue irises under heavy lids, his ecstatic and blissful expression, and the soft, pleasure-filled moaning escaping his lips as he engulfed himself in the tux tom's heated depths.

Burying his face in the crook of Quaxo's neck, he began rocking his hips smoothly in and out of the purring cat's entrance. Restraining himself for the first few minutes of their mating, Munkustrap resorted to venting his agitation by biting and sucking roughly at the skin on his shoulder and neck, leaving hickeys and matted clumps of saliva-coated fur in his wake.

"Munkustrap..." Quaxo croaked, scratching down his back, smacking his rump in encouragement, chuckling when he received a surprised grunt in response. His smile turning to a hiss of pain when the gnawing teeth on his shoulder bit down, pinching harshly when they verged the point of breaking skin.

Lifting a knee onto the table top for stability, the smooth gliding swiftly grew into more powerful thrusts; the tux had to anchor himself better by wrapping his free leg behind the dominating tom's thighs, and locking them securely in place. A sharp pain shot up from his hip and the base of his leg, cramping and crippling his hold.

"I'm... my- leg... It's cramping," came the none-too provocative statement, though the tabby could debate whether the halting breaths and grunts accompanying his thrusts were somewhat sexy.

It took him a moment to find his breath, let alone his voice, as he continued to move. "...You sh-shouldn't have p-put it there, then," he chided choppily, winking wryly. The glare he received made him sure he'd pay for it later on, but now it only turned him on even more.

Despite his less-than accommodating reply, he managed to relinquish his grip on the tux's hip to massage the base of his leg. Lucky for him, that seemed to work just as well for the squirming cat, and it gave him more access to fondle and tease his mate's neglected organ when the pain had subsided.

Back arching against the new waves of pleasure, Quaxo untangled his sweaty fingers from Munkustrap's matted head fur to reach for the edge of the desk above his head, clasping onto the edge of the wood until his knuckles stretched white, and pressing his sticky body to the desk for grip.

Moans of pleasure, heavy panting, and the distinct squeaking of the holding furniture meshed and filled the room abundantly. Munkustrap began to grow aware to the amount of noise they were making; especially so when a sharp wail emanated from the gasping tom beneath him when he'd unknowingly hit his sweet spot.

From the deep, fish-out-of-water-like gasps and the tightening cling onto his body, he could sense the smaller tom's peak drawing near. His hunch solidifying when the desperate enchanting of his name began and quickly grew louder with each passing jolt that shocked his craving body.

Despite his own growing need for oxygen, he leaned down and meshed their mouths into a sloppy, wet kiss, hoping to smother any noise from the heat-driven tom. When that didn't work, he broke the kiss, bringing his hand to clasp over the lithe tux's mouth. This, fortunately, got his attention.

Munkustrap eased momentarily so that he could be heard: and would be listened to. "You know I love hearing you," he began, struggling to keep his pumping controlled and breath stable for conversation. "But the whole office won't appreciate it nearly as much."

Quaxo nodded in understanding, whimpering severely beneath his silencing hand for release. Knowing his promise wouldn't hold up for very long, Munkustrap decided it would be best to keep his hand over his mouth for safety' sake.

Unlatching his other hold on the black cat's hip, he shifted his hold so that he was now hugging the small of his back, swiveling his hips in preparation for what was yet to come.

Resting his head again in the crook of Quaxo's neck, he gritted his teeth and began thrusting violently into the body below. As predicted, his mate erupted with ecstasy filled screams and moans, lusciously calling out his tabby's name with each hit taken from his tiring body. The light scratching of his claws against the underside of the desk's ledge left shallow grooves in the wood.

Tearing his hands from their small holes, his wild grip wrapped around the other's back and head, crushing their forms together at the height of his pleasure, body shuddering intensely.

Munkustrap smothered his mouth against the soft, malleable flesh of the tux's chest; grunting and growling as his partner reached his peak, body constricting around his tired muscles and his throbbing member almost painfully. His hand managed to quiet a last wail of pleasure; a pleasant and triumphant warmth spreading outwards from his stomach and groin, the result of a successful mating on his part.

Racing for his fast approaching peak, he lifted himself off his spent mate, taking in the sight of his exhausted and sweaty face, and the unmistakable scent of his musk between them.

Allowing his mate the relief of sliding his leg from his shoulder, he followed it as the tux's weakening hold on his back and thighs shifted to wrap around and lightly squeeze his waist. The sudden buck of the bleary tux's hips into the thrust jarred him sensuously, pushing him closer to the edge.

His exhaustion caught up to him when his trembling arms gave way beneath him, sending him falling onto the huffing tux. He was luckily caught by semi-sturdy hands that had traveled from his back to massage his chest and stomach.

Easing him down onto his chest, Quaxo guided his companion's gaze to be even with his. Kissing him languorously, he bucked his hips again, breaking the kiss to look deep into his lover's eyes as he reached his much-anticipated climax.

With a shallow, shuddering breath, Munkustrap released carelessly into his welcoming mate. Their breaths mingling when the tiny tux gasped sweetly at the warmth of their lovemaking filling him deeply, taking in the hot breath that dripped with both lust and satiation.

The last of his strength leaving him, he managed to settle himself back in the smooth curve of Quaxo's neck, licking the sweat from his fur lazily and nibbling and the exposed skin beneath his jaw.

"... Am I hurting you?" he managed between gulping inhales, referring to his weight pressing the smaller frame into the expensive wood.

Quaxo peeled his sticky face off the table top to shake his head. "No. I'm fine." Fine is one way to put it, he mused.

Waiting for the tabby to regain his strength, he slowly began to trace circles on the other's back, caressing him appreciatively as they lounged in the afterglow of euphoria. It was a rather pleasant position until his neck was given a finalizing kiss followed by a cold absence as the bigger tom pushed himself up, pulling out carefully before helping the tux to his feet.

They came together once again to hold each other close in a snuggling embrace. "That was fantastic," Quaxo acclaimed lightly, nuzzling Munkustrap's cheek.

"Good thing we didn't test the chair," he chuckled in agreement. "I don't think it would have fared too well." The tux laughed, tossing the forgotten chair an inspecting look. He couldn't help but agree.

Yawning tiredly, Quaxo returned his gaze to the silver tabby. Running his hand and gaze down the tom's bare front, he airily broke the silence, "I guess you'll have to clean yourself off before nosy cats come knocking on your door... Though I must admit that you look incredibly charming like that," he finished with a wink.

"Sweaty, disheveled, and covered in your grime? I like to think so too," he beamed cheekily, bending over to pick up his clothes, wondering where his tie had disappeared off to. Emerging from under the desk where he found his necktie knotted and wrinkled beyond presentation, he was handed a slightly flattened McDonald's bag.

"There's some soap, toothpaste, change of clothes, and such," Quaxo smiled, fishing out a face cloth and a fresh shirt. Munkustrap dimly wondered how the bag had held so much; but then he remembered one of the tux's many talents. "And I brought you real food, unlike this dehydrated science experiment they put in the vending machines."

Munkustrap took the bag, cloth, and shirt; giving the tux his stale, dirty uniform. "Because McDonald's is much better."

"Oh, no, I didn't bring you McDonald's," he scoffed, picking up his crumpled shirt and shrugging it on, having wiped himself off with the tabby's used shirt. "I brought you leftovers and sandwiches. I found the bag in the backseat and decided to throw everything in so I could carry it all up here... though I don't remember the last time we had McDonald's."

Walking to the bathroom, they got dressed and freshened up. Fixing his new tie, the tabby grinned when slim arms snaked around his waist from behind. "You coming home?" came the soft almost-plea from the nuzzling tom on his shoulder.

"Can't," Munkustrap sighed sadly. "But I'll definitely be tonight. I can't stay here forever."

Turning around in the tux's grip, he faced the little tom; fixing his undone collar before caressing his white-furred cheek delicately. A fond look graced his features when Quaxo leaned into the touch, nuzzling before pressing his lips into the palm of his hand. "Then I'm going to head home: I have work in the afternoon."

"Don't overdo your leg," the tabby grinned wickedly. They kissed tenderly before Quaxo turned to leave the bathroom.

He casually replaced the scattered contents from the floor with the slight flick of his wrist, the contents creeping back onto the desk and settling back in their original places. Replacing the contents brought in the bag with the soiled clothing, he ran a quick hand through his still mussed head fur before exiting the small office.

Walking down the carpeted hallway, he passed the same cubicle he saw Alonzo disappear into earlier. It was still lit up by the small desk lamp. He found the white and black tom sleeping soundly on a stack of multi-coloured papers and folders.

He felt a small pang of guilt for the tom, having to work non-stop for the first few months of his position. He reached over the snoring tom to turn off the lamp and the computer screen, picking up the emptied fry box and throwing it in the wastebasket next to the desk. It twitched spastically before taking the shape of an empty toothpaste box. Wondering if the white and black patched tom would notice the strange appearance of a Crest package and the lack of a fry box, he reached in to snatch it up and toss it in the brown bag under his arm.

Giving the dark room one last sweep, he smirked, pleased with his results, before quietly stalking out of the firm.


End file.
